Serenity
by TapesAndRecords
Summary: "Undercover? Again?" -Tony and Ziva, undercover in paradise. And yes, they're acting married. Slightly mixed-up multi-chap.
1. Day 14

This is… short. But it came to me last night and I wrote it and I figured I should post it. It's set kind of… now. Just pretending everyone was perfectly fine after that explosion (counting down until season 10, seriously), more or less. I was going to write something like this for the token-Palmer's-wedding fic, but I forgot. :D So you get this instead, ha.  
I don't really say where it's set. I'll let you imagine your own little paradise.

Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when your Dad works with some Americans for a few days, and comes back with chocolate and a cup for you. :D (Also, he met many Marines.)

Listening to: Sound of Silence by Kina Grannis.

* * *

"It will be... hard, to leave this behind, yes?"

"Yeah."  
They're both not really sure whether she's talking about the case or their current situation, but his blood rushes and her heart pounds regardless.  
For a moment, there is complete, still silence, but then a wave rises lazily up the sand and the world clicks into motion again.

Birds call from the trees behind him, sitting on flora that blooms like the large orange flower tucked behind her ear.  
Their skin has turned tan and sun kissed due to the beating sun, with freckles having broken out all over the bridge of her nose.  
The sea is breathing in a lulling way, sounding like a faint breeze on a humid day.

They have not contacted their boss in 36 hours, their hotel is exclusive and fairly isolated; its rooms back straight out onto the beach and it is only occupied by a few people at a time.  
Their suspect- or charged murderer now- is handcuffed and sitting in a local cell, negotiations over jurisdiction and rights taking place as they sunbathe.

"It has been nice, though."

He laughs. "Yeah, it's been real nice. Fancy hotel, great view, hardly any work, awesome food, movie selections, poolside cocktail bar. Giant beach with... green water. You."

She turns her head quickly, eyes meeting his, but he merely challenges her in a wordless reply and she huffs in mock-irritation.  
They work this way.

"Like I said- it has been nice. And the company... has not been awful, either."

"Heh, thanks for that." His sarcasm is blatant. "You're not bad, yourself."

"Actually, I was talking about Sam."  
Right on cue, their waiter turns up with a tall pink drink, cocktail umbrella bouncing on the surface, and she grins at her partner.

More noisy silence descends upon them- the sea, the birds- as she takes many lengthy sips through a curly plastic straw, neither of them willing to voice what's on both their minds.  
And yet it quickly gets unbearable.

"How are we gonna tell him?"

"Who? And about what?"

He has none of her pretending. "Gibbs. And the team, I guess. About... y'know, us?"

She smiles and his heart skips a beat. "We should just tell him. Together. I think that we can both agree, we won't change or stop this, no matter what he says."

He leans over and kisses her there and then, and they're both smiling as they pull apart. Because even though their suspect's caught, and they have no reason to maintain their cover, it suddenly hits them both that _this is happening_.

She stands and his eyes take in her bikini-clad figure for the sixtieth time in two weeks, then beckons him closer only to walk away again, and he follows her like a lost puppy until they reach their room.

Their lips are on each other's within a second of the door shutting, and their hot skin sparks against everything it touches. Her skin is still wet from the pool- still cold at the waistband of her swim outfit-, and rivulets of water still remain on his shoulders from their trek through the sea.

The bikini hits the floor with a satisfyingly loud _thwomp_, and they indulge themselves in their secluded haven for the final time before they must leave.

**000000**

When they get home, everyone comments on their fair hair and tan skin, but nobody seems to notice the brighter smiles and more genuine laughter, and they can cope with that.  
Everyone except Gibbs, that is. He eyes them affectionately but knowingly, and they make a silent agreement.

They head down the steps hand-in-hand, and face him together, and emerge victorious.  
And their smiles are wider still.

* * *

Lovely little button there.


	2. Day 7

Well this is funny. :D I hadn't actually planned to continue this, because I just finished a multi-chap and I'm such a dreadful updater I decided I'd give those a rest for a while. But here I am, tail between my legs, with another chapter, ha. I actually just forgot to mark it complete, but luckily (or maybe unluckily), I had a few ideas so I just kept it open. I'll keep it open in case I get another burst of inspiration, but I am going to France for my birthday next week, and my muse is very very grumpy most days, so I can't promise anything.  
Anyway, this jumps slightly from the last chapter- and is quite a bit longer-, since I focused more on what Tony and Ziva would do during this little undercover-vacation they're on. Basically, this whole fic is going to be one of those where it skips around the timeline, rather than a straightforward progressing one. I like it though. :D  
Onto the fic now.

Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you cancel all plans just because there's a re-run of Swan Song on.

Listening to: Us, by Regina Spektor.

* * *

She dips her toe into the water with a dreamy smile, and he grins to himself from their balcony. She's so cute sometimes.

The weather is scorching and the air humid, and he's taken every health brochure's advice and has retreated indoors for midday, when the sun is at its highest. Ziva, though, has of course gone against any guidance she has perhaps gathered, and is braving the sizzling rays outside in favour of the hotel pool. To be fair to her, though, she doesn't look at all flustered. He knows, of course, that she's used to heat like this- it's in her blood. It should be in his blood, too, but he's grown accustomed to the climate of the East Coast, and the heat's getting to him.

A small splash from below pulls his eyes back to his partner, who is now dragging her toes over the surface of the water with a childlike intensity. He can't help shifting his gaze somewhat, to focus on her tiny little bikini. He must admit he's become a little bit fascinated with it; he can still remember how he thought his jaw was literally going to hit the floor the first time she emerged from the bathroom, wearing only that and the shining ring on her left hand. At that thought, his eyes flit down to his own hand, smiling slightly at the still-foreign sight. It's been about a week, and he wishes every day that it was real.

Giving up on his admittedly half-hearted attempt to read his book, he downs the remainder of his drink, slips his shirt off, and puts his hat on before jogging down the stairs.

**000000**

"Hey."

"Hello. You... decided to come out here anyway?"

"Yeah. I figured being out here with you would be more fun than sitting inside, even if we do both end up with heatstroke."

Her eyebrows knit together and he tries not laugh at the adorable-ness of it.

He sits next to her, feet dangling into the refreshingly chilled water, and laces his fingers through hers.  
"What are you thinking?"

"How do you know that I am thinking anything, _darling_?"  
He tries not to wince at the nickname, because she knows he doesn't like it.

"Because, sweetie," he kisses her knuckles "you get this look on your face when you're thinking. And you're looking like it now."

She turns her head, and he takes the opportunity to place a chaste kiss to her lips. She chuckles and his stomach does a backflip.

"Really?"

"Yes, really." he kisses her neck next and she whimpers slightly. "So what are you thinking?"

"If you are trying to get me to tell you by kissing me, you are sadly mistaken."

He curses internally, but doesn't stop his actions and move back until another hotel visitor walks past.  
"How was the book?" she asks him huskily, eyes seemingly trained on his hand.

"Uh... I haven't read much of it yet." he beams at her, hoping she'll change the subject. She doesn't.

"Then... what have you been doing for the past half hour? Do I even want to know?" her eyes are glistening mischievously and his throat is suddenly dry. He takes a deep breath, wondering quite how to answer. In the end, he settles for the truth.

"Watching you."

Her eyebrows raise in surprise and he smiles sheepishly. With an undecipherable look on her face, she moves closer and kisses him, deeply, and he groans into her mouth. This week has been killing him very, _very_ slowly. When she pulls back, he moves forward instinctively to try and kiss her again, but she lays her hand over his mouth to stop him doing anything. Despite his best attempts- and the fact he plants many kisses against her palm-, he can't make her move.

"I love you."  
His heart pounds suddenly, even though he knows their guy is standing under an awning behind them both, observing them as they talk. Still, Tony pretends the words are meant for him directly, because he found out early on that it hurts too much to accept the truth.

Finally, Ziva moves her hand, and he grins.  
"I love you too."

**000000**

Later on, they're sat by the pool once more. Their waiter, Sam, provided an excellent room service meal at about five o'clock, but apart from that they've been sitting outside all day.  
The sky has turned a deep, exotic blue, and the ocean is still easing up and down, just in front of them. Crickets are chirping- at least, he thinks they're crickets-, and the moon hangs delicately in the sky.

He looks to their just-visible hands, interlinked and resting on the ground, and notes the way the moonlight reflects off the matching wedding bands.  
It's a little cooler than it was in the morning- gooseflesh has erupted on Ziva's arms and the pool water has chilled significantly-, but it's still a pleasant evening.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and he snaps out of his reverie to face her. He knows she'll have _that_ look in her eyes- that one that says she knows the answer to the question already.

"I'm fine." he sends her a smile, regardless of whether or not she'll see it, and squeezes her hand. Seemingly content for now, he senses her look away and does the same.

"How long's it been now?" he asks the ocean, even though he already knows the answer. What he really wants to ask is how long this will last.

"About a week."

They slip into silence again; the ocean still rolling and the crickets still chirping.

**000000**

He has no idea what time it is when they eventually stand, his legs aching and her arms stretching out. She's about to walk away when, suddenly, he calls her back.

"What?" she asks, sounding genuinely confused.  
He can't answer her in words, exactly, so he just puts his arms round her and kisses her lightly. She hits him on the chest playfully, and he can't help but wonder what it would be like if they really were married.

He fakes pain when she taps the spot where she hit him, and she laughs. For some reason- later he'll blame it on too many emotions at once-, he picks her up and throws her into the pool, right by their feet. Of course, he should have taken her ninja-abilities into consideration first, because she somehow manages to grab his arm and pull him in with her.

Their laughter is loud until she probably realizes they may be waking people up and places a finger over his lips, still chuckling to herself as she utters a quiet "Ssh."  
His arms snake round her waist regardless, and he pulls her closer through the cold, cold water. Her eyes are illuminated by the moonlight; shadows dance over her skin from the rippling water and swaying palm trees. He has never seen anything more beautiful, and he tells her in words to that effect. She blushes whilst trying to suppress a shiver.

His lips remain on hers for what seems like forever, and when he pulls apart he drags her to the pool steps. They pad through the hotel, shrieking with laughter as quietly as possible, as they leave wet footprints over the tiled floor.  
He thinks, not for the first time since this charade began, that he wouldn't mind staying here, with her, forever.

* * *

So what does everyone think of this new way of reviewing, huh?  
-Kiera.


	3. Day 1

This is a… surprisingly quick update, for me anyways. But I broke up from school for summer today, and I'm going to France tomorrow, and I figured I might as well hand this over since it was already written (I've already written the next chapter, too, which is terribly exciting for me). I've also worked out the structure of this- every chapter is a different day, unless marked otherwise. Please note the chapter titles, too. This is sort of the introductory, explanatory, chapter, but there's still Tiva. :D  
Thanks for the reviews on this, guys- I'm glad you like it.

Disclaimer: You know you're obsessed with NCIS when your friend paints you Ziva for your birthday. [and another friend writes something. :D]

Listening to: The Parting Glass, by Ed Sheeran.

* * *

The file feels heavy in her hands as the Director talks about something else; weighing down in her palm. She's vaguely aware of being released from the office and wandering to an elevator, but her eyes are skimming over the pages, drinking in as much information as she can get in the short time they've both been allowed.

"Undercover? Again?" she says, interrupting Tony's lengthy ramble with a sudden thought.

"Well, it's been a while, Ziva."

She flashes back to a hotel room balcony, curtains parting as she re-enters the main section; the sweet taste of fruit on her tongue; the hot kisses placed on her lips as clothing falls, falls, falls to the ground.  
A flash of white heat and she's back in the elevator, eyes linked with those of a smirking Tony.

"And we've got a little more notice this time."  
She nods, knowing it to be true. Last time, they'd been sent home, told to dress up nicely and pack a bag, and then met up and headed to the hotel. At least they have a night to prepare this time around.

"Where'd Vance say we're headed again?"

"I did not hear the name. But it says here," she gestures to the file in her hand "...that Bradey was last thought to have been amongst this group of islands here." she gestures again, and Tony's eyebrows rise appreciatively as he whistles a low, impressed note.

"Nice."

The elevator doors suddenly open and the two of them look up, startled. An awkward-looking man wearing a visitor's badge stands on the other side, gulping. He's probably put off by the close proximity the two partners are displaying, but Ziva can't blame him if he is so. Tony's got his arm braced on the elevator wall, head leaning over her shoulder as he peers at the file inquisitively. She hadn't realized before, though, that his breath was actually fanning out over her neck.

The man in question- her partner- says something about classified details, and the awkward man scuttles away muttering a string of apologies.  
"Creepy guy." Tony notes, and Ziva smiles at the simple way in which he said that.

"Hey listen; do you want a lift to the airport tomorrow? Or were you planning on taking a cab? I mean-"

"Tony a lift would be great, thank you." she smiles sincerely, cutting off his troubled rambles yet again.

"Eight o'clock good for you?"

She pats his cheek in affirmation and exits the elevator, wondering if he'd even noticed it had arrived at the parking lot or not.

**000000**

He falls asleep on the plane, but she's not surprised. All morning he'd been slurping coffee, regaling her with tales of his night; how he'd been up late choosing what to wear, how he'd been reading over his file to learn as much as he could before the folders would taken off them in the morning.  
She half-heartedly wonders why she ended up knowing exactly what to pack and got a good few hours of sleep, but she doesn't ponder on it for too long.

A quiet snuffling sound from her left snaps her out of it, and she turns her head to see Tony's face burying itself into his chair, his mouth opening and closing contentedly. A line has developed along his cheek from his face having been pressed against the seat for too long, and she reaches out on reflex to lay her hand over the mark.

She pulls back sharply, however, when the light glints over the ring sat on her finger. It's bright and gold and she knows it'll take some getting used to. Her mind tries to repress the look Tony had sent her this morning as he handed her the wedding band just before they exited the car.  
The one that said that, although they were about to become two completely different- _married _- people, their actions would be completely their own. The deep, smoldering look that made butterflies stir deep within her and her heart start pounding. The look he had on his face just as he leant in, only to pull back again and stand from the car.

She knows he noticed the slight shudder she couldn't contain, as he placed a kiss to her cheek as they waited in line to hand over their papers and board the plane. She'll never admit that, just for a second, she'd forgotten about the undercover part of their undercover mission.

Eventually, she drifts to sleep to the quiet hum of voices and repetitive music.

**000000**

A hand on her cheek wakes her up, and her eyes open to see a sparkling green pair looking into hers. The sight makes her blink suddenly in an attempt to take everything in.  
There's still some music playing in the background and she lands back in reality with a jolt.  
_They're on a plane._

"How long until we land?"

"About fifteen minutes. You looked pretty out of it, I didn't want to wake you up." his hand shifts from her cheek as he moves his thumb back and forth at her temple, then proceeds to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

She smiles at him and he kisses her on the nose. She laughs.

His wedding ring presses ever-so-lightly on her skin, and a wave of emotion sweeps over her, so forceful that she stands and excuses herself to head to the ladies' room.  
She manages to catch a glimpse out the window, however, on her way, and grins at the shining, clear waters and bright white expanses of sand that stretch beneath the plane. It's beautiful and hot-looking, and this trip seems much more relaxing than it could do.

**000000**

She thanks the boat driver in a mix of many languages- the most she's been able to pick up this far is that the locals definitely don't speak Hebrew.

A relatively large building suddenly stands before them; a man waiting at the front gate with a bright smile on his face. Tony turns to her, hat slightly askew on his head, and grins.  
"Welcome to paradise, Ziva."

They state their names and reservation details- all organized by Vance, of course- and are lead to a desk inside. Sometime during the process, their bags have been taken from them, and she idly wonders if someone has taken them up to their room already.  
A smiling woman checks them in and briefly explains what there is to do, also mentioning something about a personal waiter that Ziva most definitely knows she must inquire about tomorrow. The phone rings, and the woman tells them that they need not head straight to their room; they can go to the beach or the pool if they so wish, and then picks up the phone.

Tony heads out toward the sea, and Ziva follows after him. It soon becomes a race, and once the top layer of their clothes has been removed, he drags her into the ocean, arms encircling her waist every now and then to pull her under a wave. She laughs and screams and squeals and all of it's genuine, and she's not quite aware of the fact that he brushes his lips to hers at one point- light and salty, and sandy and brief.  
She can't help but think that they make very convincing newlyweds.

* * *

Good night and joy be with you all.


	4. Day 11

**note:** I am SO sorry. I can't believe the same thing happened _again_. Basically I went to France for two weeks, and although there was internet connection my rickety old laptop refused to connect, so whilst I could review and things using my phone, I couldn't post, or even edit my profile to say I didn't have connection. Though Sophie did mention my predicament in her fic. Thank you for that, dear. :D  
So here's another chapter of this. I've got practically the whole fic planned out and about half of it written right now, so the next update shouldn't be too long. Also I changed the description of this, and I will be changing the picture, too, so I'm just warning you about that, heh.

**side-note: **I posted the wrong chapter, heh. Don't ask how, I have no clue. Anyways, thanks to JET1967 for letting me know, otherwise you'd all have been treated to some Airport.

**disclaimer:** You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you fangirl at a shop named 'Mickael David' (Mickael as in Michael, like Weatherly; David as in Dah-veed, y'know.)

**listening to:** Underwater, by Joshua Radin (the whole album, actually, I love him).

* * *

The lounger is cool against his back and her body warm against his. Her face buries itself into the crook of his neck; her eyes squeeze shut against his skin- presumably to block out the glaring sun. She murmurs his name quietly in her slumber, soft lips gently dragging against his jaw. He only smiles and slides his arm round her waist even more, planting a kiss atop her head.

Quite how they've both managed to fit on the small reclined chair, he doesn't know. But his side is pressing into the arm-rest and Ziva's practically on top of him, so he supposes they've managed to make a good situation even better.

He contemplates drifting off himself, but his gut's been uneasy all day and he's not sure he wants to let his guard down that much.

The sun is still relentlessly beating down on them both- Ziva chose yet again to stay outside when it's hottest-, but the relaxing quiet of their surroundings means he pays no mind to the unforgiving heat.  
Birds still chirp from _somewhere_- he's thus far yet to see a tropical bird-, brightly-colored butterflies still flit in front of his vision every now and then, the sea still whooshes gently up and down and up and down the beach, as it always does. The calm water of the pool reflects the sunlight, and the liquid looks set and unshakable, but the odd warm breeze stirs the surface and lets ripples overlap and collapse over the edges.

A stirring Ziva brings his thoughts back from the pool, and he looks to her with a smile.  
She returns the gesture and laughs quietly, moving her arms upwards and flexing her toes, stretching rather like a satisfied cat.  
"Good sleep?"

"Very good, thank you."

She smirks, then sits up. Her legs swing round and her arms rest on his shoulders, and somehow she ends up straddling him. He asks if she's comfy, and she replies by moving her hips into his just so. Any response he may have is cut off by her lips meeting his.

It's a brief embrace- they are in public, after all, and she pulls back after only a few seconds.  
He locks eyes with hers and a wave of emotion rushes over him- his palm cups her cheek reflexively. She smiles almost shyly as his thumb caresses her temple, and he smiles in return.  
"What time is it?" she asks with a yawn, and he looks briefly at his watch before answering.

"Uh, a little after five."

"But… we came out here at one o'clock, I asked Mary what time it was right when you left with John. Why didn't you wake me up?!"

He chuckles affectionately at her frustration.  
"You just looked so damn comfy. And," he steals a kiss, "you don't need to be anywhere; I didn't _need_ to wake you up, did I?"

"I suppose not."  
She runs a hand down his chest and he suppresses a shiver. Her hair slides from behind her ear and cascades down to form a curtain from the world, and he revels in the sudden, if unexpected, intimacy. Kissing her for a lengthier time, he lets his hand move to her hip, fingers just brushing against her skin under her shirt.

"You must have been pretty tired, I guess. It has been a particularly _exhausting_ week and a half." he says against her lips after they break apart, and she laughs at the suggestion in his voice.  
He smiles at her, a feeling of love swelling in his chest, and opens his mouth to say something out into the sudden, seeming quiet.

But then, amongst the birds and the ocean and the still, still pool, the silence is broken.  
A gun primes.

He pulls Ziva down to him just in time- he hears the bullet whiz past their heads only a moment later.

**000000**

They run back to their room as soon as a member of staff walks out to the poolside; fulfilling their undercover roles as newlyweds who are, of course, scared of gunshots.  
He half-wonders why it feels so much like they're not acting at all.

She clutches his hand- he thinks it's as tightly as she can- as they walk across the cool floor of the hotel reception, and an uncomfortable-looking man stands by the staircase, uttering an apology whilst telling them to go to their room as quickly and calmly as possible. They obey.  
Ziva trips on the last step, and his arms go round her out of reflex. His head is spinning slightly and he doesn't know why, and all he wants to do is pull his partner close and never let go. But, of course, they can't do that.

As soon as their door shuts behind him, he stops panicking and exhales deeply, eyes closing briefly, then opening to see Ziva looking much the same as he presumes he does. Ruffled, slightly scared, confused.  
They'd both forgotten the danger in this mission.

"Ziva." he breathes, so very quietly, and he reaches forward to brush his fingers against her cheek, then gulps as she leans into the touch.

Then, just like that, he pulls her to him and kisses her before she can protest.  
It's long and raw and filled with could-have-beens, and he just knows that this kiss says everything they can't. Not because they're frightened of the outcome, or they think they're not ready, but because they're undercover and there simply isn't _time_.

Instead, she slips his shirt off his shoulders because they're married right now, and this is something they _can _do.

**000000 **

"Thank you."

Her words are quiet and she doesn't seem focused on them. Her fingers are tracing indecipherable shapes over his chest, eyes trained there, too, and she doesn't look up even when he speaks.

"For... what?"

"For saving me. Again."  
She laughs and looks up at him, and he thinks her laugh is a wonderful sound. He presses his lips to hers with slightly more force than he'd intended, but she doesn't seem to mind and wraps her arms around him. Her skin is warm and slightly sticky, and he knows his must be pretty similar.  
When they part, her lips almost cling to his, and he decides he needs the contact so much he won't even pull away any farther.

"God, I love you. I love you so much; don't you dare go anywhere, okay?"

"Okay."

"Promise?"

"I promise."  
She kisses him before reminding him that she loves him, too.

* * *

I like reviewing, do you?  
-Kiera.


	5. Day 3

**note: **Well I decided it was time I gave you guys another chapter, and, uh, here it is. :D I'm not really sure where most of this has come from, and I feel kind of reluctant to post it for some odd reason, but I thought I would do anyways. I don't think I've got much to say other than that, heh, apart from thanks for all the reviews so far. I'd hug you all if I could. Also this chapter slightly lives up to the T rating more than others have done thus far, if you get my gist (jist?)… There's some smoochies. :D

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you find an advert for it in a magazine and you take a picture because it's so awesome.

**listening to: **The Universal, by Blur.

* * *

"Oh come on, I can't believe this." he says with a frustrated voice, and she looks up from her book to see him standing on the balcony, staring at his hand in the sunlight, eyes squinting.

"What? What is it?"

He sighs and she can't help but feel the tiniest bit worried that something's very wrong.

"I've got a tan line."

The worry dissolves immediately and is replaced by amusement, and she snorts as she stands to walk over to him. His ring is held in his other hand, between forefinger and thumb, and he turns it over and over in his grasp. The sun glints off it and leaves a faint, lingering blur before her eyes.  
"Let me see."

He curls his fingers up and moves his hand out of her reach, an embarrassed look on his face. His head shakes forcefully, but she only has to place her hand on his arm to make him outstretch his fingers once more. There, on the ring finger of his left hand, a faint streak of white resides amongst the otherwise sunkissed skin.  
"It is more like a burn line- you're looking very pink-, and anyway it is hardly visible."

He blinks in a slightly exaggerated way, staring at her fingers wrapped round his, and she realizes there's something else.

"It'll get worse, right?"  
He sounds dazed to her ears.

"I suppose so. What is wrong with that?"

"It'll be like that for a while, when we get back, won't it?"

Something clicks in her mind and she gets it. But they still don't know if there's any surveillance in this room; they have nowhere safe to speak alone.  
"Do you not want to stay married to me, then?"

At that, he laughs bitterly for some reason she doesn't quite want to acknowledge just yet, and leans on the metal railing, hand now curled round his ring as he stares at the pool below. She moves behind him and sees their guy swimming laps through the water, a towel resting on the sun lounger beside him.  
"You do know, that... I will also get a tan line. I do not mind it; it shows that I am married. And I am married to a wonderful man, who I hope knows that. Besides- I am not planning on taking off my ring anytime soon."

He's about to turn around, but she slides her arms around his waist and anchors him in place, because she's not sure where they stand and she thinks maybe she just crossed the renowned line.  
"Oh yeah. I guess I won't be either."

She plants a kiss right between his shoulder blades and chuckles when he tries to move his arms and see her.

"That's not fair."

"I believe that life is not fair, _darling_."

He shudders falsely and makes a retching sound deep in his throat.  
"Ugh, don't call me that, it makes me sound so... old."

She has to agree but says nothing, instead chuckling to herself at the new-found knowledge of his hatred.

He sighs, sounding resigned to his fate, and she smiles into his shirt as he speaks.  
"Well... I guess I can do without a tan there."  
She knows by his movement that he's slipped the ring back onto his finger, and at that she loosens her grip round his waist. He turns round almost immediately to press his lips to hers.

**000000**

The man stumbles into her after her foot catches his, and she sends her arm out to the wall to brace herself. Bradey, though, is not so fortunate, and ends up landing on the floor.  
"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry." she says as she grabs his arm to help him up. He thrusts his shoulder out of her grasp, however, and stands; dusting himself down with a glare on his features.

"Look where you're going." he tells her threateningly, and she puts on her best scared-face.

"Hey, I said I was sorry, okay? Honestly."

He storms off instead of replying, and she finds herself being very, very relieved.

**000000**

The ground is warm beneath her feet and the stone is smooth; only the odd one presses harder against her skin than the rest as she tip-toes across to her partner.

"Hey." he says casually, raising his arms and flicking water at her from the tips of his fingers. "What took you so long?"

"I walked into someone."  
She slides her shorts off and tries to ignore how Tony stares at her legs.

"Hey, you got that one right!"  
She frowns and his sudden look of pride falls.

"No, I actually walked into him. He was not very happy."  
Her shirt comes next, and she can't help but pull it slightly slower than she would do.

"Well… that's different, then."

He's blatantly staring now, head tilted to the side and eyes raking up and down her body as she moves right to the edge of the pool.  
She slides in easily, inhaling sharply at the cool water; her toes touch the bottom as she bounces along to Tony. His arms go round her waist and pull her closer, and she links her hands behind his head.

"Well, this is nice."

She chuckles in a mischievous way, winking as she pulls her chest closer to her partner's.  
"Isn't it?"

He kisses her- short but sweet, and slightly longing-, and when she pulls back something resides in his eyes that she's sure wasn't there moments ago.  
Before she can even begin to contemplate what it is, however, he presses his lips to hers more forcefully and all thoughts fall from her mind as her heart starts to pound furiously.  
The kiss turns heated before she knows it, and although they're in public she can't bring herself to tear her mouth from his.

Tony's hands are running across her skin, gripping her exposed arms and submerged hips. His nails run down her back, and she knows they should stop but she just _can't_. She runs her fingers through his hair and he pulls her impossibly closer. His mouth moves on hers, which moves in turn, and his fingers- dripping with water from their previous endeavors in the pool- tangle themselves in her hair as his hand cups her cheek.  
The need for breath eventually wins, over everything else her body is telling her, and as he brushes his lips by her cheek, her neck, she realizes exactly why she couldn't pull back.

That kiss felt _real_. Not manufactured purely for being undercover- though admittedly, she'd forgotten about that for a while-, or half-hearted because maybe nobody was watching, but genuine. Genuine desire; genuine actions.

Reeling from such possibilities as the ones filling her mind, she presses her palm flat against the back of his head and plants her lips on his once more.

* * *

Reviews equal… cookies.  
-Kiera.


	6. Day 5

**note: **Yes I'm still here! :D I know when I replied to reviews I said the next chapter should've been up soon after, but I'm horribly lazy and I also just couldn't find time to type up all my writing, heheh. So I hope you all forgive me, and for those who reviewed, I hope you liked your cookies. :D On that note I'd like to hug you all for reviewing and following this thing so far, you're all lovely.

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you run to the newest boxset when you're shopping and nearly fall into the stand.

**listening to: **Gone Too Soon, by Daughtry.

* * *

Her eyes close as she pulls the fruit through her teeth, and he tears his eyes from her to shoot a glare in the direction of their linger waiter, Sam, who seems just a little too interested in Ziva in Tony's opinion. The scruffy blonde retreats, however, and Tony turns to see his partner chewing lightly on the cocktail stick in her fingers, eyes glistening mischievously, as if she _wants_ to kill him.

"Stop it."

She giggles and his stomach flips despite itself. "Stop what?"

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

He kisses her to stifle yet another of her chuckles.

**000000**

The lounge is refreshingly cool compared to the harsh, pulsing heat even of the hallway outside, and he relishes the cold as he returns to his spot, book sufficiently retrieved from their room.  
He surveys the space around him, eyes finally landing on Ziva at the bar. She's perched on a stool, tall glass in hand, engaged in conversation with a middle-aged couple. They laugh quietly every now and then, and he has to admit, he never thought Ziva to be the type to exchange stories and jokes. On closer inspection, however, he sees his partner- ever sneaky as she is-, turning occasionally to pose an offhand question to the lone man on the end of the bar. Lieutenant Simon Bradey.

"I should go, my husband is back now. But it was lovely talking to you both." He hears Ziva say, and he smirks into his iced, vaguely alcoholic, drink.

In his peripheral vision, he sees her hop off the stool and saunter over to him, and he swears she swings her hips more than usual, just because she knows he's looking.  
Her lips brush his cheek as she takes a seat, and he turns just in time to see the genuine smile on her face before she takes another drink.

"Well, what were you talking about?" he asks in an overly-sweet voice as he reaches over and laces his fingers with hers.

"Oh, a lot of things. The hotel, the beach... Me. You. Our wedding. John and Mary's wedding." Her eyebrows raise in time with his, and he lets out a quiet, nervous chuckle.

"I was gone for four minutes at the most," he clears his throat, "and you've already swapped marriage stories with_ John and Mary_?"

She slaps his cheek, probably in response to the way he'd emphasized her new friends' names, but rests her head on his shoulder regardless.

"So... what did you say about our wedding?"

She laughs, and he knows she's just been waiting for him to ask.  
"I said... that it was very romantic, and that the setting was lovely, and that we had everyone we cared about there. And, that... you ate half the cake by yourself."

"I did not! That was you!"

He stops abruptly at his words, wondering how he'd managed to reply quite as easily as that. Ziva, however, does not seem to notice, and instead merely chuckles to herself before peeling open the pages of the book she's reading- her third since their arrival.

Minutes later, his neck is starting to hurt from supporting the weight of her head for so long, and his weak attempt at reading has been interrupted many times by the distracting factor of his partner's breath fanning out over his skin and somehow reaching down his shirt.  
"Uh, honey-"

"Thank you for the drink, dear, we're just going back to our room. Though I hope we'll see you around?" A voice says suddenly, cutting off Tony's words, and he looks up in irritation only to see a kind looking woman smiling down at him. Her hair is short and curly, and is mainly gray in colour, and she's wearing airy-looking orange clothes made of some kind of cloth Tony can't name and probably wouldn't want to admit to knowing anyway, if he did. The woman's smile is the sort that makes her eyes crinkle at the sides, and her face stretch brightly.  
He likes this woman.

A man hangs around, about five steps back, his hands stuffed into his pocket and a slight smirk on his face. He sends Tony an apologetic look, and the younger man gets the impression this happens a _lot_.

Suddenly, the warmth is gone from his shoulder, and Ziva's sitting upright.  
"Yes, Mary, I'm sure we will. And honestly, the drink was no problem."

The two women hug- uncharacteristically for Ziva, Tony thinks, but then again they are both acting- before the elder couple head through the lounge doors.

"John and Mary?"

"John and Mary." Ziva confirms, before re-settling her head against him and flicking over another page in her book.

**000000**

"I think... that I will go to the pool." Ziva announces an hour or so later, and she uncurls her feet from beneath her before sliding them into her previously disregarded shoes.

"Alright, I'll be out later. Just enjoying the air conditioning whilst I can." He sends his partner a wink and she blushes slightly, biting her lip as if to stifle whatever words he was about to force out of her.

"I will... see you later."

"Okay. I love you." The words come surprisingly naturally to him, and he almost stutters upon realizing that he really didn't have to try.

"Mm. I know." She grins mischievously and walks out, and he tilts his head as his eyes train on her swishing hips yet again.

And then, he realizes. _She didn't say it back._

**000000**

He drags himself from his thoughts what seems like hours but is, in reality, only a few seconds after Ziva's exit, and finds himself staring at the empty seat by the bar where Bradey had just sat. His eyes flit to the door and he sees the man walk out, frame stiff and hand clasped around something Tony can't identify from such a distance.  
Something inside him tells him to follow the Lieutenant, so he stands, leaves his book on his chair, and jogs out of the room.

Bradey does not seem aware that he has a shadow as he walks robotically through the hotel corridors, fingers desperately clutching at whatever it is he has hidden in his grasp. Tony follows him silently, and yet he can't help wishing he had a gun held in his hand. Not to fire, but just to have as a precaution. Because at least when he does this normally, he has his partner standing by as immediate backup, anyway.

Without much warning, Ziva comes into view, standing by the elevator. Both men speed up significantly, though Tony more out of worry than simply copying Bradey's movements, but then it strikes the agent that he has absolutely no idea what to do. He doesn't know how to stop this. Except run.

"Woah man, I'm sorry." he murmurs as he bumps shoulders with the Lieutenant, who then shoots him an angry look that Tony doesn't pay any attention to. He walks hurriedly to the staircase, head turning back to see that Bradey is waiting for the now-departed elevator to arrive once more, then turns back again and takes each step two at a time.

His breathing is heavy and rather straining on his lungs once he reaches their floor, and he emerges at the top to see Ziva just exiting the lift, heading straight to their door.

"You didn't say it back." he murmurs breathlessly, and Ziva spins, a look of surprise on her face. He walks slowly toward her, eventually leaning over their door and effectively blocking the entrance.

"What? I really need to get into the room now, _darling, _so-"

"You didn't say it back." His voice sounds more forceful than he'd anticipated, but he continues and sends her a smile nonetheless.

She looks slightly confused but answers him nonetheless.  
"Fine. I love you too. Now can I get into our room?"

He obliges, moving out of the way so she can walk in, but is sure to brush his hand over her shoulder in the process.  
"Anyway I figured I could go a length or two in the pool, too. The lounge seemed awfully lonely without you."

His puppy expression does nothing to soften her gaze- though he will admit it's already quite nice to begin with- and instead she just plants her lips firmly against his. Yeah, he can deal with that.

* * *

I'm all out of cookies but I can offer a new chapter soon?  
-Kiera.


	7. Day 2

**note: **This is my definition of 'soon', haha. But it's not bad, for me- I've been known to take nearly a month to update other things before. :D Anyway this is just another chapter for you all. I'd also like to say thank you for all the reviews I got for the last chapter, I was shocked by how many there were. XD Thank you, everyone, I'm hugging you all in my mind right now.  
Ah, yeah. I know the past two chapters and this one have all been quite early on day-wise (Day 3, Day 5, Day 2), it's just I'm switching perspectives and it ended up being one-sided, so that's the reasoning.

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you listen to the Housekeeping commentary and practically faint.

**listening to: **Always Like This, by Bombay Bicycle Club.

* * *

The air is hot when she wakes, clinging to the sheets and pulling her skin from the bed. Her hand runs up the length of her arm out of habit, but it is all too warm and feels too heavy, and she recoils immediately. She's not entirely sure where she is or who is sleeping beside her, and she squeezes her eyes shut tight to just try and recall something- _anything._  
And then, suddenly, it all comes rushing back to her, and she jolts violently because she knows they both hoped it wouldn't happen like this. Taking a shuddering breath of humid air, she stands and tries not to look at the dozing figure lying beneath the covers.

Clothes are strewn all over the floor in a messy, love-drunk way, but only the two of them know it is false. She winces at the sight. Tony, it seems, is not as perturbed by their untrue actions as she herself is, and continues to snuffle softly in his sleep.

A rush of air hits her suddenly and she realizes that standing around in their hotel room is doing nothing to aid her- and at 3:30 in the morning she can hardly do anything else to clear her thoughts-, so instead, she heads to the bathroom. Unhooking the robe from the door, she turns to leave but catches sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her general appearance is the same as always, but her lips are swollen and there is a faint mark curving over her collarbone. Shaking merely at such thoughts, she stumbles back to bed.

Tony's breathing is still even when she settles back on the bed, but he's sprawled out awkwardly now, covering up most of the space and leaving her absolutely no room to climb back in under the covers. At least, she tells herself there's no room. Instead, she sits on the edge of the King; feet tucked under as she elects to wait until her partner moves once more.

She knows she should not allow this to cloud her judgment; they're undercover, after all, and once upon a time this was a regular day's work for her. They've done this before, too, even if it was a lifetime ago; it shouldn't be any different.  
But of course, it is. Now, there's history and death and arguments weaving between their lives and it is in no way as black and white as it once was. As the two of them once were.

Reality comes tumbling back as Tony rolls over, dragging half the bed's worth of sheets with him in the process. He murmurs something incoherent before pressing his head down into the pillow, and making a noise that Ziva thinks is a sneeze.  
She bites her lip in an attempt not to laugh, but it isn't successful and a strangled sound escapes her lips. She freezes.

"Ziva?" comes the barely-audible whisper.

She jerks her head up and sees Tony, eyes wide, staring at the empty side of the bed. She winces and curses internally.  
"Yes?"

Something akin to relief flashes over her partner's face for only a split second before his eyes flit shut again and he sighs tiredly.  
"Come back to bed."

She hesitates momentarily, but he adds a hushed 'please' on, and she stands once more. Dropping the robe to the floor after checking that Tony's eyes are definitely closed, she slides back beneath the sheets and rolls onto her side.

His hand finds hers minutes later, and she smiles to herself unwillingly as he pulls her closer, his arm moving round to settle on her waist. It may be a habit of his, or something else entirely, but in the end she's too tired and too warm to worry about anything.

**000000**

"Hey buddy, I said _could you pass me the butter_." she hears Tony say, and she looks up from her breakfast to see her partner leaning over a neighboring table, talking to a man Ziva recognizes very well, after investigating him for however long it's been now.  
Lieutenant Simon Bradey is not the most handsome of men. He's beady-eyed and scrawny, and an ugly scar trails his left cheek. A large, distasteful tattoo decorated the back of his neck, rising up to disappear into his hair. He once had a buzz cut, and Ziva knows this from his identification card, but now a bird's nest of hair sits atop his head and is accompanied by a straggly shadow on his chin.  
He is the kind of man Ziva- or, she thinks, mainly every other woman in the world- would avoid unless strictly necessary.

She watches as Bradey rather begrudgingly hands over a butter dish and immediately sinks back into his chair, eyes landing back on the magazine he's been staring at for a half hour now. Tony grins at her as he returns, and she smiles in return, a question on the tip of her tongue.  
"You do realize," she tells him once he has sat back down again, "that you do not actually _need_ butter?"

His triumphant grin falls as he looks to his plate of eggs, bacon, and something unidentifiable; definitely no butterable items.  
She's still debating the legitimacy of 'butterable' as a word five minutes later, when Tony places the butter dish on her empty plate, continuing their earlier conversation by retorting  
"But you do, _sweetheart_."

She rolls her eyes and stands up to get some bread.

**000000**

He finally asks the question she knows he's been dying to ask all day, when they're standing on the beach late that evening. The sea occasionally creeps up and slips beneath their toes, but really, they're just there to watch. And get away from it all.  
Her hand is in Tony's, and his thumb brushes her skin every now and then. He's standing close to her and she can feel slight warmth radiating from him.  
The sun is still hot but does not beat down on them, in fact it retreats closer to the horizon increasingly quickly the longer they stand outside.

"Why weren't you in bed last night?"

It sounds like the kind of question a suspicious lover may ask, and judging by the way Tony's hand tenses around hers, he's realized that too.

"I…" she starts, but she's not sure how to word it, and her mouth's gone dry, and all she can think is that Bradey is in the hotel, only a few feet away. It'd be a shame to mess up their mission so early on. "I… I do not want to do this here. Can't this wait?"

Her eyes are still trained on the sea, refusing to meet his gaze, and her heart falls when his hand slips from hers.

However, his lips soon press against her forehead, and his fingers slip beneath her shirt to grasp the edges. He pulls the fabric over her head to leave the bikini she had noticed he'd been so enamored with that morning. Her shorts soon follow suit of her shirt and fall to the sand, and he only slips off his own t-shirt before grasping her hand and pulling her to the ocean with him, just like the day before.  
Confused, she doesn't fight his actions, merely follows him to the sea.

By the time Tony stops, she can't feel the ground beneath her feet and he's submerged to just below the top of his neck.  
"Put your arms round me."

She does as asked, and loops her arms round his neck. His hands find her hips and he pulls her closer, and her legs somehow hook round his waist. Were she not so dazed about the situation, she probably would have blushed.

"Ziva, what's wrong?"

She tears her eyes from his and focuses on his water-obscured shoulder instead.  
"Really, it's… nothing."

"You're a terrible liar, you know that, right?"

She looks back at him, about to exclaim otherwise, but he raises a finger and places it over her lips, and she stops attempting to talk. A drop of salty water drips from his hand and eases over her lips, and it bites at her skin. He moves his hand and her tongue flicks out to wipe away the lingering rivulet before she speaks.  
"I was… thinking. But now, I know that I was just being stupid, and irrational. I have… realized, that it will be okay."

Something shifts in his eyes and she thinks that maybe he does understand, anyway.

He smiles at her, then tightens his hold on her hips as he presses a chaste kiss to her lips.  
"C'mon, let's go inside. I'm getting cold, and you, my dear, are shivering."

She knows that she is, but something tells her it's not to do with the cold.

* * *

Ooh that last bit ended up sounding overly suspenseful.  
So… it'd be nice if you could review. I have both cookies _and_ new chapters this time. :D  
-Kiera.


	8. Day 9

**note: **I'm baack! Sorry this took so long, honestly. Mainly, I had to take an unexpected trip to Scotland for a few days and my muse got rather unsettled. This chapter was only half-written at the time and it took me a while to get focused on this again, heheh (I explained this to most reviews I replied to, so I hope it's not too annoying for you). But at least I got it written eventually, yeah?  
Something worth pointing out, again, is that the first section of this is rather... steamy (no pun intended, ha. You'll see when/if you read it). I just thought I'd mention that before anyone faints or something. It was originally much more... detailed, but I shortened it for the rating.  
Also check out the new NCIS promo online, if you can. I mentioned it in my latest one-shot, but I figured I'd remind you anyways. Again, thanks for all the reviews, alerts and such on this. Enjoy!

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you create a Team Gibbs on the Wii and chuckle because Tony and Ziva are next to each other. (it's alphabetical.)

**listening to: **A Postcard to Henry Purcell, by Dario Marianelli, from the Pride and Prejudice, 2005, soundtrack. (we all sat down and watched half of the movie last night just because it was on.)

* * *

Her hands are clutching at his shoulders as he kisses her firmly, and he feels her gasp against his lips as her back connects with the cool, tiled wall. Her fingers dance forward from his back, trailing down his chest, and he pulls away from her only to utter a curse by her ear as her fingernails trail lower. His mouth plants itself on her neck as one hand steadies them by grasping her hip and the other wanders, and he feels her squirm significantly at certain movements. He grins in satisfaction against her skin, but something rushes through him at another of her touches, and his hand flies to her head, fingers lacing through her hair, as his lips collide with hers once more.

She utters a noise and he feels he can take no more. His hands return to her clutch at her waist, and he lifts her off the ground slightly. Her back presses more fully against the wall and her breath hitches once more as he takes all her weight.

For the first time in what seems like hours, he is aware of the water streaming over them from the shower head above; little droplets of warmth, and he looks into Ziva's eyes to see rivulets trailing down her face, only to fall suddenly and meet their swirling end. His partner's hair is plastered to her face, strands combining in places, and he raises a tentative hand- whilst still managing to hold her weight- to move some out of her vision. The gesture seems suddenly intimate and for a moment he forgets his original intentions as to why he joined her in the shower in the first place.  
She sends him a smile as her gaze softens, before her eyes darken once more. The mere sight forces a low noise, resembling a growl, to escape his throat, and Ziva pulls her bottom lip through her teeth in a way that makes his blood rush violently. Her eyes flutter closed and that's all it takes.  
Once her heels press forcefully into his lower back and she clutches at him tighter, his head spins, and everything after becomes a blur.

It's only later, after they have actually showered, that he notices the faint impression his mouth has made on her neck. She smirks at him when he points it out, and he suddenly becomes aware of the stinging pains on his back. She tells him to look in the mirror and he smirks right back at her upon seeing the pale half-moon shapes of fingernails, pressed into his shoulder.

**000000**

"I really don't want to do anything today."

"I... thought we were already _not doing anything_, besides lying in bed. Though you did get up and get lunch from Sam."

He takes that into consideration, and the fact that the TV is on quietly, but he knows she understood what he meant anyway.  
"I _mean_ that I don't want to go down to the pool, or meet up with people in the lounge. I just want to... be here. With you."

She smiles in surprise after his comment, and he averts his gaze, feeling surprisingly shy. She does not make a witty remark in return, however, and he looks back to see her merely staring at him.  
"What?"

"Nothing. I was just... wondering."

"Wondering about what?" he asks, leaning in closer to her face with a confident grin.

She promptly tells him it does not matter, and he doesn't feel like pressing the matter anymore, so he lets it slide for the moment. He feels her snuggle into his side a minute later, and he has to suppress a grin.

**000000**

"What... what just happened? I thought her hair was different, and that the baby was the other man's."

"I thought you said you'd seen this movie before."

"I have but it was a long time ago. And it definitely wasn't this complicated then." She waves her arm in defiance and he has to fight the urge to laugh at her insistence.

"Well I did say that Sliding Doors is _not_ the kind of film you can start watching halfway through."

She huffs in annoyance but picks up the remote regardless, switching to another channel.  
"What about this?"

He quickly insists that the movie she has chosen is for children, to which she merely rolls her eyes and turns to another channel yet again.  
The TV flicks off after the process repeats three times.

"And what, my dear, shall we do now?" she asks, her voice sounding ever-so-slightly smug. He looks down to see her staring back at him, with a glint in her eyes as if to say _I told you so_.

He's rather surprised when she actually accepts his offer of merely lying in bed again, and even more so when she allows him to just hold her.

**000000**

"I'm... sorry, I did not know how else to wake you. I kicked you, but it didn't work."

He automatically raises a hand, running his finger along his lips in sleepy confusion, and she winces. Instantly, he sees how she has taken his actions.  
"Oh no, I liked it. In fact, I wish I could wake up to that every day."

"What, someone kissing you?"

"No, the woman I love more than anything in the world, lying in my arms at four in the afternoon. And kissing me, too, obviously."

Her smile falters somewhat when he finishes, and he wonders absentmindedly what it is that he's said, exactly. Before he can speak, however, her hand darts out to cover his lips, and she sends him a small, shy smile.  
And then he gets it. Because perhaps those words weren't just for show, and whilst he may not have even realized it at the time, they were most likely true. And maybe, just maybe, Ziva's picked up on that, too.

She replaces her hand with her lips within nearly no time at all, and he deepens the gesture almost immediately, his arms wrapping round her and crushing her body to his as best he can. Her mouth moves against his and something fires up within him, and before he knows it he's hovering over her, arms either side of her shoulders as he braces himself.

"Tony?" she breathes near-silently against his lips, having torn her mouth from his only by the smallest amount.

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too."  
With that, she arches her back off the bed and kisses him again, fiercely.

* * *

Sam the waiter wants you to review. He has cookies.  
-Kiera.


	9. Day 13

**note: **I'm so sorry, I appeared to have developed a temporary social life- I took another trip away at the weekend. But I'm back now, Gibbs-slapping myself for being such a terrible updater, armed with another chapter for you guys. If you're still here, that is. Just another note; I'm back at school now. I know, I know, and I promise I'll try and keep to a chapter a week as the maximum break, but once everything kicks off more I may start to slip, and for that I apologize majorly in advance.  
This is a little shorter than I would've liked, but I just couldn't make it any longer without losing suspense (heh, I sound like I actually know what I'm talking about right now). I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Once again, thanks a bunch for all the reviews. Many Abby-hugs are coming your way.

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you get a calendar as a late birthday present and it turns out your Dad was getting you it for Christmas.

**listening to: **Little Lion Man, by Mumford and Sons.

* * *

She wakes, surprised to find her face buried in the pillow, as Tony's foot kicks her shin for the third time in a row. Rolling over with a tired groan, she peels open one eye only to squeeze it shut once more, her arm raising in a failed attempt to block out the sun. Trying yet again, she sees thin streams of light filtering through the sides of the drapes, bathing the room with a golden, honey-colored glow.  
"Wake up." she hisses, her voice raspy from sleep, and she turns to poke her partner in the shoulder repeatedly.

"Wh… 'M awake, okay?" comes a muffled reply, and she snorts with laughter as Tony raises his head. His hair is mussed and somehow plastered to one side, and a pillow crease lines his left cheek; his eyes are barely open. His mouth, however, is set in a comfortable and inviting smile, and she leans over to place a chaste kiss upon his lips.

"Good morning."

"Good morning yourself." he replies, pouting tiredly. Looking down, he seems to notice his position for the first time- tangled in the majority of the sheet and twisted half around anyway. "Oh. I should…"

She pushes his arm lightly in jest to indicate that he should roll over, but somehow his hand grips hers, and before she knows it they're both rolling off the edge of the bed, yelping and laughing all at the same time.

"Well, this is nice." she remarks with a smirk, taking in the new situation.

Somehow, the mischievous blanket has ended up following them to the ground, and now it is draped over them both, offering only a shred of decency whilst it covers her back. Having ended up straddling him, her hair is falling down by her eyes, and he's reached up to hold the curls behind her head, much like he'd done undercover.

He chuckles in amusement, obviously agreeing with her, and pulls her head down to be level with his.  
"Mm, isn't it?"

With that, he presses his lips to hers and she can't help but grin.

**000000**

They're in their room when they hear the shot. He's on the balcony, looking out to the pool and the beach, a drink in his hand, whilst she sits on the bed and attempts to fasten her new bracelet one-handed.  
The noise is loud and seems to shatter the little haven they're in, and she winces as her hands fly to her head to cover her ears. Her bracelet goes flying across the room.

Tony grabs their bags from under the bed and pulls out his own gun, whilst she pulls her own weapon from a drawer, and he sends her a look laced with something unidentifiable. She's about to question it when he runs to the door and leaves, taking the stairs two at a time, and she has no choice but to follow.

He signals for her to round the corner, and something in her is relieved at how easily they've slipped back into being partners.  
She heads round the side of the hotel, holding her gun steady in her hand for the first time in two weeks, and signals to a passing waiter to stay where he is. A second look tells her it's their personal waiter, Sam, and her gaze softens slightly at his confused demeanor. She looks at him calmly, and mouths to him to get all the guests as far away as possible. He nods at her, then turns away, and she takes another step forward.

**000000**

"NCIS, drop your weapon, Bradey."  
Her partner's voice echoes round the sheltered area she finds herself in, and she quickly shifts her gaze from their guy to see Tony standing, half-protected by a large dumpster of sorts, weapon trained on Bradey as steadily as hers is.  
A man lies on the ground by Bradey's feet, a bloodstained hand clutching his shoulder rather uselessly. His face is contorted in pain, but he looks rather young and Ziva does not recognize him.

Bradey, however, merely stands facing the wall opposite him- a wall to Ziva's right-, a gun held in his hand and his finger twitching on the trigger. He shuffles his foot and Ziva stiffens more.  
"Don't move or we will shoot."

"Would that be such a bad thing, Special Agent David?"

She gulps slightly, her mouth suddenly dry, and tries not to let his words get to her. Tony, however, takes a minute step forward, leaving the vague safety of the dumpster behind in favor of progressing closer.

"Yeah, you thought you were safe with your little undercover scheme, but I caught you. And your partner, too."

"You do not want us to shoot you, do you, Simon?"

"Don't call me that. But… don't you see?"  
He looks up, bloodshot eyes boring into hers, and she recoils the slightest bit at the intensity of his gaze.

"No. I don't think I do, Lieutenant." she replies, learning from her mistakes, her heart beating oh so quickly.

"I want to die. I killed all those people, I don't deserve to live. Death is better."

"So why did you run?"  
Her eyes are still trained on her partner, who has proceeded to edge far closer than when she last checked, but is apparently staying silent.

"Didn't I just say?! Death is better."  
Bradey is a little more erratic now, his hands twitching far more as he starts to pace.

"Lieutenant Bradey…" she trails off as Tony approaches Bradey from behind, gun in one hand and a set of cuffs- though where he's got those from she has no idea- in another. "Do not make me do this."

She raises her gun at the same time as the Lieutenant, just as Tony grabs the guy's wrist and kicks his feet out from underneath him. A shot is fired.

**000000**

Her gun falls to the floor ungracefully, her head spinning round to see the hole in the wall as she hears handcuffs tightening and rights being read. She thinks someone comes and takes Bradey away, but all she can hear is the deafening sound of a bullet, and all she can feel is the rush of wind as metal flies past her face.

"Ziva?"  
A hand cups her cheek and she startles.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice quiet and soft. His eyes are honest and shining and she only breathes deeply before calming down significantly, yet she feels she can only nod in response.

Seemingly satisfied, he brings his arms round her and holds her close, fiercely, before pulling back and kissing her. It's short and soft but with a hint of longing, and she drags her lips over his as they pull apart.

"Tony, we don't…"

"Ssh." he says, sending her a look as if to suggest they were never really pretending in the first place.  
She accepts the next embrace he offers willingly.

* * *

I'm all out of cookies again but I do have some Skittles...


	10. Day 4

**note: **I don't really have an excuse for this being late. This is the one chapter that had no plan and was completely unprepared, and most of it was written earlier this evening (it's about midnight now), so I just had no idea what to do. The boredom of my day today chucked some ideas at me, and here I am. I was a bit worried this chapter seemed too rushed, but I took a break and had some food, and I'm posting it anyway.  
I may get another update done before the premiere (*flails*), since the next chapter's all already written, but we'll just have to see. Thanks again for all the reviews, I wish I could thank you all more. But rest assured I reply to everyone and send mental hugs to all Anons. _Thank you, guys._

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you decide Italian club won't be that bad- after all, Tony turned out fine.

**listening to: **The Night Will Always Win, by Elbow. (I'm completely in love with them right now.)

* * *

He blows air out of his cheeks after what he's roughly calculated to be fifteen minutes is over, standing from the bed with a satisfied stretch. He can no longer hear water running from the room next to him, too, which he takes as another good sign, and so opens the door with a large yawn. After all, he doubts his partner can still be showering after this long, and he really needs to pee.  
The sight that confronts him is not that which he expected, though he supposes he could perhaps have foreseen this as a possibility. Ziva may be facing the wall, but he's granted full view of the back of her, and before he knows it, his gaze is raking all over her, taking in legs that he's sure don't stop, the vast expanse of her rather chiselled back, and other... redeeming qualities. Then, she pulls a fluffy-looking towel up and round her, and his sight is suddenly restricted, leaving him only able to appreciate her shoulders and the- admittedly tantalizing- curve of her neck.

"Good morning. I see you are awake," She says, turning round to face him, and he brings his gaze up to meet her eyes. "Sadly I am already clean, so I don't think I will join you in the shower this morning."

He chuckles as she walks past him, her hips swinging as she sends him a playful wink, but his smile quickly falls as she closes the door behind her. He knows that by the end of this mission, he _will_ have been in that shower with her at least once, or else.

**000000**

After their breakfast still hasn't arrived, forty-five minutes after he'd hung up on their waiter, he heads downstairs to see what's happening. He's skipped the wait for the elevator and is heading down the staircase when he realizes his lips are still tingling from the brief kiss he'd exchanged with Ziva before walking out the door. His mind immediately flits back to their kiss in the pool last night, and suddenly all he can feel are Ziva's hands, running all over his skin; the way her fingers tangled in his hair as she directed her lips back to his; the way her-  
A hearty laugh snaps him out of his vague reverie, and he looks down at the lobby, just appearing before his eyes, seeing an older couple walking arm-in-arm. They're standing by the elevator and he nods in their direction before making his way to the reception desk.

A dark-haired man he does not recognize mans the main desk, scrawling a note on a piece of paper and humming tunelessly.  
Tony clears his own throat loudly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir, I didn't see you there."

"S'okay... Adam. I was just wondering where my breakfast's got to- I ordered it, like, an hour ago and my wife and I are getting hungry."

"I'll look into it, Sir, what room are you staying in?"

A few moments later, and Adam's got a page up on his screen.  
"If you'll excuse me, Mr DiNozzo, I'll go into the kitchens and find Sam for you."

Tony smiles before sitting himself in a comfy-looking couch and pulling out his cell phone.

**000000**

A ringing sound startles him before he exits his game of Tetris and answers the call.  
"Hey."

"Where are you? I was getting worried."

"Relax, _honey_, I'm still downstairs. I asked about breakfast and this other guy went to find Sam, but it's been five minutes and he still hasn't come back. I'm starting to think there's some kinda black hole in the kitchen."

"Oh that is not very likely. But I hope Sam is okay."

He scoffs rather bitterly.  
"Sure, worry about our waiter rather than your husband."

"I was worried about you, too."  
Her voice is soft and it startles him slightly.

"You okay?" he asks, unable to keep the concern out of his voice.

"I am fine... It is just quite lonely up here, all alone."

He smiles happily even though he knows she can't see it, and is about to reply when he sees both Sam _and_ Adam walking in his direction, each carrying large trays with many cloche-covered plates.  
"I gotta go, honey, breakfast's here. See you soon, I love you."

**000000**

Both waiters have placed the trays down on the large table sitting in their hotel room, apologized and said that the partners will most definitely be reimbursed, and left, before Tony realizes his words. His gaze leaves Ziva's immediately and he focuses instead on his hands, fingers twisting his wedding band round and round until it's shifted somewhat and he can see the strengthening tan line decorating his skin.

"This looks great." She says suddenly, and he looks up to see her leaning over the table, pulling various silver covers off and looking greedily at the cooked and baked delights sitting before their eyes.

He smiles at just how impossible she is, before choosing some food of his own anyway and tucking in.

**000000**

Many hours and yet more room service later, they venture downstairs and sit on the beach, watching the sunset.  
The light tangles itself up in Ziva's mussed-up hair, adding itself to the growing collection of salt and sand. Her knees are drawn up against her chest, but he figures it's only fair- all she's wearing is a bikini and a thin sweater of sorts. He watches, mesmerized, as she traces nonsensical patterns in the ground with her finger, dirt gathering beneath her nail in a wonderfully childlike way. Part of him wonders if she ever had this freedom as a child.

He mirrors her position somewhat, pulling his knees up, but folds his arms and rests his elbows on his legs, eyes trained on the lazy sea before them. The breeze is whipping through his hair, but it's soft and warm rather than harsh or cold, and he closes his eyes briefly as the burnt orange sun glows with an air of finality.  
He's never experienced perfection before, he doesn't think, but he's getting pretty close to it now.

Ziva laughs at something he says- he's been rambling on about something or other for a good five minutes now-, and he opens his eyes to see her head thrown back in happiness. The amber-tainted air adds some new, mystifying quality to her, and though he cannot name it, he thinks he likes it very much.

Automatically going to defend whatever it is he's said, he opens his mouth but is promptly stopped by Ziva's lips crushing his, so impossibly gently. The embrace is finished as quickly as it began.  
She looks down, face still fairly near to his, seeming particularly shy as she murmurs an apology. He reaches out and tells her _No_, then kisses her once more, pulling her down onto the sand. He follows and they end up both lying on their sides. This is not a gesture of lust, it is far more.

When he pulls back and she opens her eyes to look at him, sand lingers on her cheek and a few grains tip her eyelashes. He knows this really is perfection.

She clears her throat, her gaze flicking up as she looks into his eyes, and he briefly wonders if she remembers at all his accidental words from earlier.  
"I love you too."

It seems she has.

* * *

New chapter, or a cookie? Or both, maybe?


	11. Day 12

**note: **Yay I really _am_ updating before the premiere! I'm so unbelievably excited right now, you have no idea, and I'm not even getting to watch it until tomorrow. It may have something to do with the new spoilers and promo shots that were released yesterday and today, but maybe not.  
Also last chapter I sort of messed up a little when that Adam dude called Tony "Mr DiNozzo". All through this fic I didn't want to create aliases for Tony and Ziva, so I just refrained from having them called anything at all apart from with each other. So can we all... pretend that that didn't happen? Thank you. :D  
Anyways another chapter for y'all. I don't really like this one- or all of this one, anyway-, but I needed to drop in some plot. I couldn't, though, fit in the fact that the reason they're where they are in the first place, is to do with what happened on Day 11. The hotel is… reimbursing them, I guess, by doing this. Enjoy!

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you listen to your soundtracks in school, curl your hair like Ziva's, and pay absolutely no attention in class, all because it's premiere day.

**listening to: **Temptation, by Cote de Pablo (though I'm sure you all know it already).

* * *

"And what are you girls talking about?" She hears a familiar voice say, and she's about to turn to face him when she feels arms slip round her waist, instead. She rests her own hands on top of his, smiling to herself contentedly.

"Oh the usual. You."

Tony laughs, his body shaking, and she notes how the tremors transfer to her.  
"Sorry, Mary, would you mind if I stole my wife back for a little? There's a great view a few streets down and a jewelry stand I think she'll just _love_."

Mary chuckles, clearly charmed, and reaches over to pat Ziva's arm before replying,  
"That's perfectly fine, my dear. I was just going to look for John, you don't happen to know where he is, do you?"

"Oh sure, I was just with him. He's in that little café there, second table in." he utters, and gestures in the vague direction using both his and his partner's arms to point, and Mary's smile grows. Ziva just rolls her eyes in amusement.

"Thank you, dear. I'll see you both later."  
And with that, she's off, and Ziva feels Tony's face lower so his cheek is resting on her own.

"C'mon, I gotta show you this."  
He slides his arm down and steps back, linking his fingers with hers as they walk off, away from the make-shift market square.

"Oh, so there really is a view? I thought you were just saying that so you could have me to yourself."

"Haha," he says, his voice laden with sarcasm. "Although admittedly that _is_ something I'd do. No this really is good, John found it."

They slip into silence- though, she supposes, there's still a lot of noise around them-, and his thumb moves gently over the top of her hand. It's a relaxing gesture that lulls her into a content state as they continue to walk.

"So really, tell me, what were you and Mary actually talking about?"

She chuckles at his impatience for a few moments before conceding and answering him- she supposes it's fair, after all.  
"You, like I said. And... me, and us- as in _us_-, and what things are going to be like when we get back. She, uh, even asked if we were planning to have children."

His step falters and she keeps her eyes trained on the ground.  
"W... wow. Mary sure doesn't hold back, does she?"  
She's grateful when he tugs lightly on her arm and they resume walking once more.

"So what did you tell her? About... kids?"

She can't help wincing, because things are still so rough and new between them, and this is a conversation they should have much farther down the line than this.  
"I... I told her that...w-we wanted them, but that we would wait a while. That we wanted to adjust to being married and focus on work for a few years before we did anything."

He stops abruptly once more, but this time he moves in and kisses her before she has the chance to speak at all. When he pulls back, it's only moments later.  
"I love you."

A pause follows and she gulps.

"Now about this view."

The uneasiness in her stomach subsides and she allows a laugh before he drags her down the street once more.

**000000**

Vast ocean spans in front of her, the sun contorting the water's shape and changing its color, and reflecting off it just so her eyes squeeze shut and an echo of the sight lingers before her vision. Large shadows rest on the horizon, islands and islands sitting alone. Somewhere there, lies their perfect haven.

And yet it's not alone. Their guy still remains, and Ziva's gut twists because _something's going to happen_.

"Tony?" she says quietly, suddenly thinking of their previous conversation.

"Yeah?" he asks, squeezing her hand in response, very lightly.

"I love you too."

The sun illuminates his smile, and she can't help but grin just as brightly as he plants a firm kiss to her lips.

**000000**

An hour or so later, he takes her to the jewelry stand he'd briefly mentioned earlier. A portly, smiling man stands behind the table, and quickly addresses them in a slightly Spanish-sounding greeting before transferring to highly accented English.

"So, which one would you like?" Tony's voice says in her ear, and she feels her skin warm before she regains some composure.

"I do not know, I can't choose." She replies, only afterwards realizing that she's pouting somewhat.

"What do you think, buddy?" her partner asks the local man, who beams in response before uttering something about some 'very beautiful' items that he does not have on display. Tony nods and the man reaches under the table, pulling out a box.

Sitting in it are four or five different bracelets, all completely different, but Ziva's eyes are immediately drawn to one in particular.  
It's quite simple- strips of brown material threaded through one another-, with clear glass beads decorating it at even intervals. A wooden drum-like object sits right in the middle, painted with an intricate pattern that she can't seem to stop staring at. A simple clasp sits at both edges but it is truly beautiful.

"The middle one." She says after no time at all, and Tony points to it. Seconds later, the man hands it over the table in a paper bag, and she thanks him before planting a kiss on her partner's cheek, taking his hand in hers, and walking away with a smile.

**000000**

"Oh it is lovely, isn't it, John?"

"Uh, sure. Yeah, real pretty."

She chuckles as Mary slaps her husband on the arm, and whilst Tony sends his friend a look of understanding, he still snorts into his drink.

"Hey! Whose side are you on?!" the older man asks with false incredulity, and Tony attempts, but mainly fails, to keep a straight face as he apologizes.

"Do you know what it says, exactly, honey?" Mary asks, and Ziva once-again searches her many memory banks to see if the text brings anything to mind, before drawing a blank.

"I cannot even tell what language it is. But I think that adds to its authenticity, no?"

Mary hums in approval before taking another sip of her brightly-colored cocktail.

"So what did you think of the view?" John asks, presumably to fill the silence, but Ziva cannot help but respond.

"It was beautiful. Just the sun and the sea, and the thought that our hotel was right there… it was quite romantic."  
Her gaze drifts to Tony, next to her, before she snaps out of it and takes a final slurp of alcohol.

"C'mon, the boat's leaving in five minutes and I wanna get good seats again." Tony says suddenly, standing and placing a few bills on the table before taking Ziva's hand and lifting her up from her seat. John and Mary leave first, and Ziva takes her chance to plant a chaste kiss on her partner's lips before stepping away again.

"Sweetcheeks, that's just not fair."

* * *

A premiere I can offer you!  
-Kiera. x


	12. Day 6

**note: ***Kiera slaps her wrist* Bad updater, bad Kiera.  
Okay so I intended to post this yesterday (Tuesday), so I'd only have a week in between, but I got my laptop taken off me during the week and at the weekend, and I'd had no time to write- a social life appeared. I know, the horror! But I'm here now, with a new chapter. Yay? And sorry if this is a little… rough, I wrote it all today. Mainly all of it in the last hour.  
Also I know I'm a little- a little, that's funny- behind on replying to reviews, but considering how late it is now (ten to eleven, and I've got homework to do before tomorrow), I'll have to reply to those tomorrow. I'm so, so sorry.

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you go to help out at a wedding and all you can think is "Tony. Ziva. Married. Now."

**listening to: **Meet you there, by Busted.

* * *

_I dedicate this chapter to Katie and Tom, for letting me share in their amazing wedding day, and to a dear friend of mine and her gorgeous new son Axel. You'll be fine._

* * *

"Hey." She hears him say. His voice is hushed as he crawls out of bed, and she hears the slight scuffling noises that indicate he's attempting to pull on some clothing whilst still holding the phone. She smiles into her pillow but continues lying beneath the sheets, rather comfortable.

"Yeah I know, it's been a while. Well she's sleeping right now— Wait, you forgot the time difference, didn't you?"  
He chuckles and she presumes whoever's on the other side- it may be Abby, it may be McGee, or it may even be Gibbs, she can't tell- has admitted that yes, they had forgotten such a difference.  
"Nah, we didn't really get jetlag. I mean we were tired and stuff the first day we got here, but she slept on the plane and I did for a bit, too, so we caught up okay. That, and we don't exactly have to get up early."

She suppresses a snort at that, because the room's so bright it's closer to midday than it is from it, and they _definitely_ haven't been rising early these past few days.

"Anyway, I thought I told you not to call me on my honeymoon! I'm trying to spend time with my lovely new wife, if you don't mind."  
At this, his voice has become louder and he's clearly stepped nearer her. Before her sleep-addled brain has worked out where her partner is, she feels a hand come to rest on her head, fingers lightly brushing hair from her eyes as if absent-mindedly.

"_Uh, Tony? You didn't actually get married, y'know."  
_She hears a chirpy voice say, and she grins at the faint sound of Abby drifting to her ears.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's going good, we haven't even fought yet." He says this as if it is a major accomplishment, and when she thinks about it, it probably is. "So why're you calling?"

"_Gibbs is wondering when his prime suspect is going to be arrested and flown back to us. He said he'd like it to happen sooner rather than later. Though in less words than that..."_

"Alright, but we're still on our honeymoon, so don't call me again unless it's an emergency, okay?"

"_Great. I'll tell Gibbs then, shall I?" _  
Abby's voice is sarcastic even through the tinny confines of the phone, and Ziva smirks at the sound.

"Okay then, I'll talk to you after we get back, okay? Love you."

Abby replies with something similar before a loud tone rings out, and Tony puts the phone down with an audible tap.  
He climbs back beneath the sheets before reaching over and pulling her into his arms- an act that she has no problem with.

"Honey, I know you're awake."

She peels open one eye and smiles rather guiltily, because of course he'd realized that.  
"Good morning. Who was that on the phone?"

She knows, of course, and he knows she knows, but he humors her with a completely made-up answer nonetheless.

"Oh, just our friendly Maid of Honor, who apparently couldn't leave us alone, even when we're on a secluded island, miles away from civilization." He tells her with a shrug and a brilliant grin, and she chuckles before burying her head into his shoulder and pretending that his arms around her don't feel completely perfect.

**000000**

She pretends she can't feel his eyes trail all over her body as she roots through a drawer for a sundress to wear. The sun is particularly unrelenting today- Tony himself is wearing board shorts rather than his attire of previous days, of thin cotton trousers-, and although she was once accustomed to such heat, she supposes DC has made her more used to feeling a chill in the air.  
She feigns ignorance as she hears him stand up and walk toward her; makes out that she can't hear his quiet whistling get louder and louder as he steps nearer.

"I like this one." He says smugly, one arm going round her towel-clad waist and the other reaching over to pull a pale cream garment from the dresser. Her eyes narrow instantly at his choice- perhaps the shortest and thinnest of everything she has brought with her. A wave of heat engulfs her, though, and she takes the dress without a word, dropping her towel on the way to bathroom. She pretends she doesn't know his jaw has dropped completely.

**000000**

He raises his eyebrows suggestively as he pulls on his shades, but she has no time to respond before he grabs her hand in his and drags her to a sun lounger, hidden beneath a palm-tree canopy. A butterfly floats past and whatever remark she was about to make disappears from her mind as she takes in her surroundings.  
They have not explored this bit of the island before, and she can't help but wonder why. The sand beneath her feet is golden white and warm, and many trees and plants spurt out the ground in a wonderfully messy way. A brightly-colored bird flies in front of her vision every now and then, flapping off to a large bunch of trees that vaguely resembles a forest. Pebbles line the beach like a pathway; smooth white stones planted in not-quite-straight lines, and she follows the direction they head until her eyes can no longer make out what is land and what is ocean.  
"Pretty cool, huh? Sam suggested it."

She turns, vaguely startled, to her slouching partner, rolling her eyes as he rests one leg on top of the other and stretches with obvious satisfaction.

"You have been talking with Sam behind my back? I'm jealous." Her voice is teasing and she almost bites her lip as she talks, peering at him over the top of her sunglasses. He pats her hand, assuring her that no, he would never do such a thing, before standing and saying he'll be right back and jogging off round a corner.

She observes the surroundings once more- even trying, but failing, to get a butterfly to rest upon her hand-, then chews on her fingernail until her partner's return.

"Ta-da!" he says, clearly happy, and she looks up to see him standing in front of her, hat now slightly askew on his head, clutching two coconuts in his hand.

"Figured it wouldn't be exotic if we didn't have cocktails from these, right?"

She merely laughs and takes a 'glass' from him before taking a sip and murmuring appreciatively. The liquid may be nameless and unidentifiable, but it certainly tastes great.

**000000**

"Do you think she will call again?" she asks as she chews on her straw, not really paying much attention to her words.

"Who?"

"Our _maid of honor_." She knows her question is silly- after all, they are supposed to contact Gibbs somehow or other every few days, to brief him on the situation-, but the question has been lurking in the back of her mind ever since the morning.

"Maybe. Why?"

"I... I like being cut off from everyone else. I like it just being me, and you, here," her voice trails off before she realizes what she's said, and she hopes he hasn't noticed as she continues hastily, "We are on our honeymoon, after all."

He leans over and places a sweet-tasting kiss to her lips, before brushing his against her temple, then takes her hand and reclines in his chair, a small smile on his face.

* * *

Cookie? Or Coconut-Cocktail?


	13. Day 10

**note: **I... have nothing to say. I could grovel and fling excuse after excuse at you as to why this is so late, but I honestly have no clue. I was halfway through writing this chapter the other day when I saw how long it'd been since I updated. I promptly swore and knuckled down to try and get the creative juices flowing more smoothly than they had been previously.  
This is the second-to-last chapter, guys! _I'm _sad that it's ending, I don't know about you. But I'm thinking of doing at least a follow-up piece to it (and possibly a sequel if I really can and people want me too, but ssh, you didn't hear that from me), so hopefully you won't miss it too much? If you miss it at all.  
One final note to say THANKS for all the reviews. We breached 100, guys, that's awesome!

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you friend has never seen it but still knows what ships you support.

**listening to: **Syrupsniph, by Flunk (aka that song from the beginning of Under Covers)

* * *

She wakes a little before him, he thinks, though he can't be sure. All he knows is that his body is aching and his skin is sticking to hers, presumably from their activities the night before. Or the whole _day_ before, when he thinks it over a bit longer.  
Failing to suppress a yawn, he stretches loudly and closes his eyes once more, snuggling into his partner's rather warm body.

"Well good morning to you, too." She says, and he grins at the slight sarcasm in her tone.

Pulling back, he sends her a smile, says good morning, and plants his lips on hers. The embrace deepens until she pushes him off her and claims he needs to brush his teeth or at least eat a mint before he can kiss her again.

"That's not fair! You're not exactly fresh-breathed yourself, honey."  
He relents regardless, and stands up, trudging into the bathroom and cleaning his mouth half-heartedly.

Ziva stares rather blatantly at him as he returns to bed- he is naked, after all- but he doesn't waste time mentioning it, merely kisses her instead.

**000000**

A knock sounds on their door, and he has to admit, the hotel have really upped their game when it comes to room service; they've arrived at their room within 15 minutes every time since the incident on their fourth day.  
"Sweetie, can you answer that for me?" he asks, pulling the sheet up over his lap and returning to the book he's reading.

His partner pops her head out from the bathroom, and he grins with false sweetness. She sends him a glare but heads to the door anyway, picking up his own dress shirt on the way.  
Sam bumbles about awkwardly once he sees both their states of undress, and swiftly exits once he's placed a large platter on the table. Tony is once again glad that they chose to dine in rather than head down to the hotel restaurant; something about room service just makes everything seem so much more exclusive.

"How can you manage to look so hot in a man's shirt?"  
His tone in incredulous and apparently something is amusing, for Ziva clutches at her stomach and doubles-over in laughter.

"Yeah, yeah. Bring me my bacon."

"Get it yourself, my husband."

He rolls his eyes but stands, glad that the air around him is not cold otherwise that would've been a shock, and picks up his plate from the tray. Ziva kicks his naked butt as he walks back to bed, but her eyes are dark and teasing and he can only laugh.

**000000**

"Oh that was _very_ nice. Remind me to give Sam an extra-big tip when we leave, yeah?"

"Mm, I shall do."

He looks down at his partner, noting how very distracted she seems. And so he reaches down and places his fingers under her chin, tilting her head up to meet her gaze.  
"Hey. What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, I just..."  
He can see how much she is struggling to put her thoughts into words, and wraps his arms around her whilst planting a kiss on her nose.

"You can tell me, Ziva." He says, barely more than a whisper.

"Tony, when are we going home?" she says, sounding utterly broken. Her voice cracks and she closes her eyes tight, and suddenly he thinks maybe he understands.  
_What are they going to do?_

"Oh, Ziva..." he trails off, no more comment necessary, and kisses her as gently as he thinks he can. "You know what?"

She looks up, not specifically asking _what_, but he answers her anyway.

"I love you."

She smiles and tells him the same thing.

**000000**

He flicks through his book again, but it's dog-eared and he's read it twice fully by now, so he sets it down and finds himself quite content to merely watch Ziva as she turns to another page in her magazine. He spares half a thought as to where she got it from, but then he remembers the big selection in the lounge downstairs, and he wonders if she's got it from there.

"You are staring, my love."

"Yeah, I am." He's in no hurry to deny it.

She shifts on the couch, resting her head on her hand as she props herself up on her elbow. Still smiling, she looks to him knowingly.  
"You are thinking something."

He says that yeah, he is, and for some reason that makes her smile even more, and she asks what he is thinking about. Building up to it, he clears his throat and puts on a serious face, taking a deep breath before facing her.  
"Seriously how do you look so hot in my shirt?"

She hits him over the head with the magazine and utters an _Idiot_ under her breath.

"Yeah, I might be, but you love me all the more for it, right?" he says, sending her a bright smile.

"Perhaps. In fact I don't know, maybe it simply annoys me."

"That's low."

She falls silent once again, eyes scanning word after word, and he sits down on the floor, resting his back against the couch.  
About half an hour later she closes the magazine in frustration and taps him on his back.

"Hey. You are thinking about something else. I told you- you can tell me. Please?"

He's not quite sure what to say, and instead reaches out and flicks the top button of _his_ shirt open. Her mouth falls open in realization and even though she's caught on by now, he still feels the need to say something.  
"I'm thinking that as good as that shirt looks on you, it'd look even better on the floor."

"That is cheesy. But I think I agree."

She leans forward and kisses him, hard, as he reaches down and opens another button.

**000000**

Eventually, they head down to the pool for a moonlit swim, worn-out but content. He finds himself pretending to be hurt at her comment of _No skinny-dipping_, then idly wonders, as she slips his shirt off to reveal that bikini he loves so very much, if he really is that predictable.

He's about to jump in from the side when his phone rings suddenly, and he answers it whilst watching Ziva swim a length or two and shudder at the apparently cold water. Perhaps jumping in wasn't quite such a good idea.

"What took you so long?" his boss' voice greets him, sounding rather amused, and Tony grins before spouting out a reply.  
Gibbs murmurs something about Bradey and a possible situation sometime soon, and he hangs up with a "Stay safe" that the younger agent supposes takes both of them by surprise.

"Who was that?" Ziva asks as he steps down into the water.

He shakes his head and utters a noise of discontentment at the harsh, sharp temperature of the pool, but eventually grinds out an answer that it was his father. Ziva grins and paddles over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and promising to warm him up a little later.

* * *

Cookie? Tiva? ...final chapter? *sniff*


	14. Day 8

**note: **Here I am, with the final chapter, only, ooh... 70 days after the last update. Okay so it was more like 11, but hey. This is Day 8. That's about all I can say. Shortest A/N ever for me. Okay, enjoy.

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you catch five minutes of Hiatus and you cry anyway.

**listening to: **Love is Easy, by McFly.

* * *

She hums contentedly as she turns in his arms, peeling open one eye to see the small alarm clock on her bedside table flashing 04:19 in a cool, metallic blue. Groaning, she shifts in order to at least attempt at getting comfortable again, but all efforts are lost as Tony yawns loudly and stirs beside her.

"You're awake." He states, his words clearly not a question, yet she still feels the distinct urge to murmur an agreement and nod.

Something inside her is forcing her to remain facing away from him, eyes trained on the shadow of a picture on the wall, but when he shuffles closer and wraps an arm round her waist, she knows he's not intending to make this easy for her.

"Ziva, what are you thinking about?"  
His voice is hushed and his breath warm in her ear, and goosebumps rise all over her skin at the sudden shock.  
And yet she composes herself, clears her throat, and promptly tells him it doesn't matter.

**000000**

It's around half past four when they step into the breezy lobby, hands interlinked and bodies barely clothed. They're not expecting to run into people, and if they do she doesn't care about what they may think.  
They head out to the pool, bare feet leaving faint marks all over the tiled floor, and a part of her brain wonders why the hell she's going along with this. But the answer, of course, is simple. _It's him._

"Tell me." He says gently as they stand by the edge, moving his hand and hers along with it. Her eyes rise to meet his, about to spout an excuse and head back to the warmth of cotton sheets, but there is something settled rather comfortably in his eyes that makes her stop suddenly, her heart pounding and her throat drying up.

And so she relents, swallowing hard before replying simply,  
"What are we doing, Tony?"

His eyes widen and he freezes, and she wants to kick herself, because of course that's not what she's supposed to say. Not here, right by the hotel, right by the room where their suspect currently rests.  
Instead of dropping her hand, though, or rolling his eyes, and wandering back to bed like she fully expected him to do, he murmurs her name and she looks up again.

"Ziva... I honestly don't know. But," he begins, reaching up with his free hand and scratching by his eyebrow, as if that will somehow clear his thoughts. She wonders idly when they became scattered and murky in the first place. "I... I like this. A lot. And this thing- the whole..." he hushes his voice more "_married_ thing? It's not as hard as I thought it would be."

She releases a breath and her heart seems to start beating once again, but when he doesn't continue she squeezes his hand and that somehow acts as if to ask him.

"I thought that this would be unbearable. Not because I'm here with you, but because... it's _you_. And I thought, that having to act like I'm in love with you, and act like you're the most wonderful thing in the universe, would end up being... tricky. But I was wrong.  
"I've found out that I don't even have to act."

At that, she drops his hand, and takes a step back, before realizing quite how close she is to teetering off the poolside and right back into the freezing cold water they'd both occupied just moments ago.  
"Tony... what, exactly, are you saying?"

"I think you know."  
His voice is free of the smug tones a phrase like that would often come accompanied with. Instead, it is rough and intimate, and suddenly the whole world slows down because he really is serious about this.

Taking a tentative step towards him, she reaches out and places a hand upon his face. His eyes drift shut momentarily in a long, slow blink, and she feels him breathe in sharply as her thumb brushes his skin.

"You... would like to try this?" she asks, her voice forcibly indifferent just in case she's read him completely wrong.

He laughs softly, eyes now locked tightly with hers, and nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I would." And yet he pauses slightly as he's about to move closer, and she wonders what's coming next. "Would you?"

"Yes. Very much so."  
A smile breaks out on her face before she can help herself, and with that she steps forward and kisses him.

**000000**

He wakes her by prodding her repeatedly in the stomach, and she retaliates with a slightly indifferent punch thrown to his shoulder. Once he declares his intentions for a shower and leaves, she lays back down with a smile on her face, because nothing has changed, really.

With the sun well and truly up, and Tony well and truly showered, she changes quickly and brushes her teeth before they head downstairs, attempting breakfast in the dining room once again. They head down, and whilst her partner heads straight for a plate, Ziva merely tugs on his hands and leads them over to a corner.

"Hello John, Mary."

The older couple are seated on a couch, John with his feet resting by two half-empty plates on the coffee table, Mary with her nose buried in a travel guide. She looks up immediately, however, once hearing the greeting.

Ziva suddenly finds herself wrapped up in a tight embrace as the words "Darling!" and "My dear!" and "Oh, how are you?!" are exclaimed rather loudly.  
As she takes a seat and Tony appears from seemingly nowhere with two full plates of food and a glass of orange juice, she laughs and tells her friend she's perfect, thank you.

**000000**

They're back in their room by midday, the sun once again proving to be a formidable force, but she can't say she minds it. The air is cool and music is playing, and Tony nudges her accidentally every now and then with his knee. It actually is his knee, this time.  
She hears the TV remote click quietly, and she supposes he's still looking for some kind of news to watch- apparently, being out of the loop has started to grate on her partner-, yet she is glad he's muted the sound and allowed her to play the CD she found underneath the stereo, instead.

Turning another page in Mary's surprisingly interesting guide book, she's about to ask something when a quiet knock reverberates through the door. Tony stands, dropping the remote on the couch as he does so, and goes to answer the muffled call of "Room Service".

She looks up to see Sam standing over the threshold, a small plate in his grasp, and she squints to see what it is.  
Tony mumbles something, and the waiter replies just as quietly, before smiling and nodding his head at the louder words of thanks offered.

"For the lovely lady." Her partner says once he has shut the door, walking toward her and holding the plate before her eyes. She grins at the large cookie sitting atop the ceramic.

She takes a bite before speaking.  
"What did Sam say? He said something to you, just before he left."

Tony smiles to himself, wipes a crumb from the side of her mouth, and then replies.  
"I said the cookie was for you. And he said that I'm very lucky to have you."

She blushes and puts the biscuit back down as he moves closer.

"And I agree."  
He smiles at her, genuinely, then plants a kiss on her lips.

* * *

And that's it, everyone! Yes, I'll be working on a sequel (I'm calling it that even if it ends up only being one chapter), so keep an eye out for that.  
All I can say is thank you, honestly. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed this and put it on alert and favourite- you guys are awesome. And whether you've been here right from the start- you know who you are-, or you've just hopped along halfway through, thank you. I'm glad I could share this with you. A final cookie for you all.  
_-Kiera._


End file.
